Wheeling Sunday register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1882-1934, 1887-10-16

When the morning broke there was a
light fog upon the water, which the sun,
when it rose, colored with beautiful hue,
changing every minute. remembered
then-heaven knows how!-that it was
the 18th of August, and three years, since
first saw my Will. AsI gazed seward,
looking through the fog, l became aware
Of ghost.
1t twas the ghost of boat shining in the
golden mist, all gorgeous with colors. The
hull was yellow and blue and crimson,
the colors changing every moment; the
sail looked like a sheet of azure
silk, and spirit who stoed behind
the mast-it was the spirit of my
Will-was all gloriied. l stood quite
still, fearing that the vision would fade
had often, before this, seen him in
dreams Of the night, but never in the
broad day, and in dreams he vanished so
swiftly that l could never find time to
speak to him. The boat seemed, at first,
to be floating on the water-but she was
not. In the light air of the morning she
was slowly making for the land; and pres
emily she passed through the mist, and
lost all the gorgeous colors which the fog
had lent her. But the ghost Of my Will
remained, pale, az all ghosts of drowned
men should be. He saw me, as the bow of
the boat grated ON the stones-he cried my
name-he threw up his arms-he leaped
ashore.
"Oh, Will! WHIP l cried, falling upon
my knees before him, "let me speak to you.
Do not go away, as you do in the dreams
Let me speak to you. know you would
the grave. Oh, what am to say now you
are here? What can l say, dear Will!
poor Will! my dead love, my lost darling,
come from heaven to comfort my poor
heart? Oh, it is breaking! Will, it is
breaking with grief and pain"
"Pleasance," he cried, lifting me in his
strong arms and folding me to his heart,
"Pleasance, am not dead am no ghost,
my darling. lam come back to you again,
alive-alive. Can you not understand?
On, my love, my darlingw
could not understand at first, nor for
many days afterward. But joy does not
kill
Will had, it is quite true, fallen over.
board. But he was picked up by French
chassemaree, and taken to France, where
he lived among the fishermen, no one be-
traying him, till he could persuade one of
them to trust him with q boat. He pro-
missed large price, should he reach Eng
land in safety. 1t is needless to say that
he kept his promise.
When | was able to listen to it all
when | could sit with my hand in his, in
such happiness as never any other girl, l
believe, Xperienced-.he began to talk
about our marriage. He wanted to see his
mother, but he would tell her himself, not
write to her. And he could not 90, he
said, unless would 90 with him. What
could l say? OF course we were married,
Just as he wished, he and /, in Rousdon
church, by the Rev. Benjamin Burden.
Will dotted his sailor clothes for the first
time, and appeared dressed as a gentle
man. Dan gave me away. 1t was agreed
that we should ride straight from the
church into Lyme, and thence post direct,
without stopping, to London.
We left Dan and Job and the poor old
rector at the door of the ecclesiastical barn.
Will lifted me into the saddle and we rode
slowls away, poor old Dan crying and Will
promising SCOT to bring me back. We had
ridden half a mile or so on our way along
the Seaton road, when i saw before me,
Just before you come to Colway lane, n
figure which seemed familiar to me. 1t
was, indeed, only part of a figure, con-
sisting of q mans trunk and couple OF
very short wooden stumps, on which the
owner was pegging his way, literally, with
uncommon vigOr. was right. The back
OF the man was familiar to me, for the face,
when we came up with its owner, was the
face of Joshua Mech.
He looked around at the sound of the
horses feet. At first he did not recognize
u.s. was dressed in dark green riding
habit and wore veil.
Joshua" / said softly, do you not
rememberer us?"
Joshua Mech, my boy" cried Will,
who knew nothing of what had happened.
How goes it, mate? Where did you lose
your legs, MANI"
where a good many lost their heads.
Mr.. Campion"-he spoke quite cheerfully,
while a horribly guilty feeling seized me
lat Trafalgar. Glad to see you safe
home again, sir. The villain who did the
mischief, he's well punished, be is; and
serve him right"
Now no one, except myself, knew who
the villain was.
Later on, when Dan came to see US in
London, he had good deal to tell of
Joshua
The mill was set going again, after he
found his money by means of o myster-
ious letter with a London postmark. 1t
had became ruinous, but the wheels were
there, and Joshua again began to practice
his ancient craft. He went no longer to
chapel, but became a firm pillar Of the
Established church, having been converted
on board ship.
The way Of his conversation was simple.
He once, in his early days aboard, began
to argue a point with the chaplain, who
was so amazed at the audacity of n COM
mon sailor pretending to be skilled in
theological subtleties, that he complained
to the captain. The captain, a choleric
man, ordered IN application of the only
remedy then employed for offenses and dis
orders at sea-three dozen.
Before the first dozen had been received
Joshua felt conviction pouring in. About
midway through the second, the force OF
the conviction was irresistible. By the
end Of the third he had steadfastly resolved
on adhering, while on board, TO the Church
of England and Ireland, as by law estab-
lished. And after coming ashore he con-
tinued this gOdly habit
It is the last scene of my story.
A bright morning in autumn, when even
the city houses look pleasant, and the
trees in the city churchyards have not yet
lost their leaves, and are pleasant to the
eve. We 90 to the house in the square,
VIII and !, followed by John Huntspill
Madam has not gone to Chertsey this year.
There are no servants to meet rs. John
has taken care of that. We cross the hall
and mount the stairs, covered with their
thick Turkey carpets, which deaden every
football. On the landing We can look into
the great room which madam always uses
az her own. We can see madam herself,
sitting by the window, pale, rigid and
stern.
No one moves, no one whispers The
tears come into Wills eyes as he looks up
on his mother. Presently John Huntspill